My friend Ben took the train up from Manhattan to spend the day hiking in the Hudson Valley together.
“We have a choice to make”, I told him as he settled into my car. “We can do a long, more epic hike and have to walk fast, or we can do a short, simple hike and take our time.”
Ben didn’t have a preference. “I’m good with whatever!”, he said.
What a jerk. Making me decide. (Ben is the most not jerk person ever).
I thought about it for a moment and a phrase popped into my mind. It’s one that’s been popping into my mind a lot lately.
“Let’s default to spaciousness”.
“I love that”, Ben said smiling.
As we embarked on our hike, our decision was quickly validated. The sense that there was no rush. The freedom to stop as we please. The deep conversations that emerged in hidden, off-trail nooks that surely would have been missed had we been moving faster. We both expressed our gratitude for the spaciousness.
This has become a new rule I’ve been lightly following:
Default to spaciousness.
“Should I keep all five tasks on my get-to list or choose three I can do comfortably and calmly today?”1
Default to spaciousness. Choose three.
“Should I add a few more questions to this interview? I have so much I want to ask!”
Default to spaciousness. Go with fewer questions.
“Should I take on this additional project even though I know it would overwhelm me?”
Default to spaciousness. Say no, even though the project excites me.
My default has always been to fill up any blank space I have in my life with more.
More projects, more work, more socialization, more content, more epic hikes, more plans. My wife, Alison, would always joke that my worst nightmare was being alone with my own thoughts. Empty space was a problem.
I’ve learned to love empty space. And I’ve started to design my life with a great deal of it. I build open, unstructured time into my work day. I take long walks in the woods multiple times a week. I haven’t been committing to a regular publishing cadence, I just publish these articles when they feel ready.
Sometimes I feel old patterns returning. I notice my urge to fill in that space.
This rule helps me to say no.
When in doubt, default to spaciousness.
I changed the name of my to-do list to my “get-to” list. Highly recommend.
Beautiful post! I used to be afraid that I’d be bored with empty time. So I ran the experiment the last two weekends to leave a full day by myself unplanned. And the space to follow my present-moment curiosity filled me with warm, rich days — not the empty, anxious days I feared.
Dear David,
Your commitment to yourself is admirable.
Bravo.